A Case Study
by Skoellya Seyth
Summary: AU. Movie-verse, with some aspects of the novels. Holmes decides to provide Watson with a case-study for a guest lecture at St. Bart's. Watson is shocked. Holmes is, dangerously, intrigued. It ends with a brawl.
1. Chapter 1

Watson looked down at the motionless form on the table. He glanced up at his friend warily. "Are you sure about this Holmes? Where the devil did you get permission?"

"I have connections of my own in Whitehall." Holmes replied breezily. "As for certainty... I thought a medical man such as yourself might embrace the curious nature of this specimen. And what better case study for that lecture for anatomy you were asked to give at St Bartholomew's?"

The Doctor pointedly ignored the fact he had neglected to mention anything of the kind to Holmes. "Don't you disapprove of sensationalising science?"

"Of course I do. There is nothing worse than a failed application of logic and sound reasoning that merely panders to the public imagination. However, in this instance I am merely concerned that those students will fall asleep after listening to that recitation of textbook drivel I found on your desk. Even I find practical demonstrations to be of infinite use to conclusively separate theory from fact."

"I suppose you're alluding to your love of showing off."

"I merely state the facts and how I find them." Holmes retorted; he was carefully avoiding Watson's disbelieving gaze. "Come now, we mustn't waste away the day in complete idleness when there is an investigation to be done."

Watson sighed and reluctantly gave in. "Fine. Pass me my scalpel from my bag."

After a few moments digging Holmes proffered the said instrument to the Doctor, but raised a brow as Watson froze as he stood with an arm raised in midair and jaw hanging. "My dear chap, you're going to catch more flies in that mouth than I did all yesterday evening."

"I- it couldn't _possibly_-"

"Watson, it won't do to vex me with such vague details."

"Pardon me, Holmes, but it- it-"

Holmes tutted impatiently. "Out with it, man."

"It _moved_." Watson finally managed with exasperation.

"Oh?"

"What do you mean 'oh'?! His _bloody_ hand _moved_!"

"No need to swear, what would Nanny say?"

"Holmes!"

"Although it would be quite possible she'd never believe me, you've always been her favourite. I think I shall have to catch you with witnesses-"

"_Holmes!"_

Oh dear. That feral voice was most certainly not Watson. It was a shame. He'd been certain he'd have another couple of minutes or so. The agent must have been slightly more potent than he'd thought.

It was at this point that it was clearly Watson who gave a terrified shout (shriek? Sherlock pondered, but he of course would never tell his friend of that particular conclusion) of surprise. Stumbling backwards, he was only prevented from falling ungraciously onto his rear by the steady arm of his friend. They stood still for a moment as Holmes' keen eyes flickered from observing the table to the Doctor's pale face. Watson was breathlessly stammering, unable to formulate a coherent thought to voice. Sherlock didn't blame him in the slightest.

Lord Blackwood was back from the grave and crouching, with very little but a sheet to cover his modesty, on the mortician's slab in the prison.

"Most engaging." Was all Holmes had managed to say before Blackwood charged them like a wild animal.

* * *

_Did anyone else not notice Blackwood's expression when Holmes mentioned it? (Yes, indeed this was his worst nightmare) Could. Not. Resist. Had to get this up here before anyone else (but feel free to use plot bunny). Also opportunity to shock poor Watson._


	2. Chapter 2

"H-HE'S ALIVE?"

"I had suspected as much." Holmes sniffed, after they'd finally managed to subdue the maniac. He'd been particularly impressed with that third wayward hook Watson had deflected and used to unbalance their opponent. Blackwood would be lucky to be breathing through his nose in a month... if they let him live (again) that long.

Watson, apparently content to leave Blackwood writhing unintelligibly in pain, had rounded on Holmes as soon as the business was done. "My God, man! You nearly let me dissect a living person!"

"Don't be ridiculous. You would have noticed his blood letting from the very first incision even if it hadn't worn off." Holmes snapped, affronted by Watson's outburst of temper. However he supposed he may have been a tad needlessly over-dramatic... again. The poor fellow was still more frightfully pallid than even Blackwood had been under his supposed 'death'. Holmes had noticed the rosy colour returning to the former Lord's cheeks for several minutes, so maybe that wasn't quite the comparison Watson deserved as a judge to the state of his nerves. "I am very glad I decided to accompany you when you made your initial erroneous diagnosis, otherwise I might have missed that light jangle of metal as the body was removed from the rope. I had to be sure of course, which was why I insisted we must have the body. He clearly has used some type of chemical, what I couldn't say precisely but I have read of particular rare plants which can induce death like symptoms, in fact you yourself have seen Gladstone has-" Holmes blinked as the Doctor growled and stormed from the room. "...Watson?"

"_Someon_e has to inform Lestrade we'll need another noose!"

"Well, be sure to tell him it looks like we'll be in need of a more trustworthy hangman. I found this hook concealed at the back of his lapel." Holmes produced the piece of strong wire from his pocket, with an air of satisfaction. Unfortunately this infuriated Watson even more, the ashen face now blared a brilliant scarlet. Holmes idly wondered, not for the first time, how the devil the man managed so quickly to change demeanour.

"When this mess is finally over I am going to-"

"Oh, I wouldn't say it was quite over yet." Holmes said hastily, but seriously as he interrupted the Doctor's rant. However, he smiled kindly at the figure in the doorway that was edging away from the blotched faced physician that was in the midst of storming out. "Eh, Clarky?"

"Yes, Mr Holmes. Sir, I-" The constable blinked in surprise and opened his mouth to respond- there had been a body found after all, some red headed midget- only to notice Blackwood groaning on the floor. He promptly turned a putrid shade of yellowish green and dropped down in a dead faint.

"Watson. Do be a good fellow and retrieve Clarky's cuffs for me on your way out. I'll fetch some of that ammonia to bring him around."

"Oh, give it over. He should be treated by a _Doctor _not a mad scientist, he's had something of a _shock_." Watson's tone was annoyed, but Holmes flashed a small smile as he recognised the tell-tale signs of resignation in his friend.

* * *

Interesting (wiki found) fact: police constables did indeed in the Victorian age carry around ammonia (smelling salts) to rouse ladies who might happen to faint. Sadly Clarky didn't think it would have to be used on him...

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes is actually out of copyright in the UK but sadly I do not own Clarky. Or Blackwood.


End file.
